


exhaustion

by wormsin



Series: BDSM one-shots [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, D/s, Gang Bang, Glory Holes, Just Fuck Me Up 2019, Kink, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, PWP, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 04:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18631267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormsin/pseuds/wormsin
Summary: Will used to like to be ruined.—Hannibal arranges a gang bang for Will. safe, sane, consensual, and entirely lewd. for Just Fuck Me Up 2019.





	exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this for months actually, and finished it just in time for JFMU. enjoy!!!!

He and Hannibal have talked about this dinner party for months, but Will’s palms are sweaty. He’s nervous.

Intellectually, Will believes he’s ready. They’ve discussed the limits and desires for this particular dinner party, and he knows what to expect—and what he doesn’t know to expect. A lot of it he wanted to remain unaware for. That was the point. He’s just supposed to be able to show up and be used.

Will shudders, and smoothes his hands over his shirt. Hannibal had laid out clothes for him to wear that night: a simple metal plug, a lacy red set of lingerie, a silk crimson shirt and form fitting black slacks. Everything fits him obscenely closely, all firm and lean lines in the mirror, perfectly dressed to his shined shoes. The clothes will be ruined, after tonight.

 

Will used to like to be ruined. 

He used to go to badly-lit scenes and back rooms of certain adult stores and get on his knees for strangers, for people he didn’t even ever see. When he was in college he had an arrangement with the owner of a video store who had a very special back room, a plywood closet with a conspicuously placed hole. Those sessions scratched the itch but always left Will wanting more.

He found people who wanted to take what he was giving, and would open his mouth and spread his legs, and god it was good to just get fucked; to show up at a place and not have to look anyone in the face and be  _ used _ . No one was watching him for his own pleasure, or making him engage with all those distractions that usually came with copulation. It was freeing.

Will is ashamed, or he was for many years until he talked about it with Hannibal. How he got on his knees and sucked cock through a hole, and did it damn well. And then he stuck his ass out a wall and let anyone who wanted to touch, and grope, and finger and fuck him; took all that he could take and then more, until it hurt and he was sore for days. He was a slut. He didn’t give a fuck who it was. In those places, he was just a hole.

Will stopped, after a while. There was only so much deserved recklessness he could justify for himself. But the itch remains.

 

Hannibal comes upstairs to blind Will, as there y talked about. Will doesn’t want to see them or know them. He gives his Master a nervous smile, hands fidgeting in his lap. Hannibal’s smile in return is radiant and adoring. He’s dressed spectacularly, as for any of his dinner parties, though his suit jacket is up hanging in the kitchen still, waiting for him to put the finishing touches on dinner before adorning. 

Hannibal walks up to Will where he sits on the bed and cups his cheek. “How are you, my love?” Hannibal asks.

Will bites his lip. “Nervous,” he says with a little smile, ducking his eyes. 

Hannibal leans in and kisses his forehead. “You look delicious. You’ll accompany the food beautifully.”

Will heats up at the praise, shudders. 

“Our guests are arriving shortly.” Hannibal tilts Will’s chin up and frames his face with both of his hands. “Are you ready?”

Will’s dressed and has done everything Hannibal ordered him to, but his Master is asking more than that. If Will has changed his mind, Hannibal will cancel the party and there will be no consequences, Will knows. “I want it,” Will assures him. “So badly. But bringing it out of my fantasy and into reality is… a feat.”

“You’re going to be magnificent,” Hannibal reassures him, stroking his cheeks and sliding a hand down the back of his neck, where Will’s collar rests, a discrete locked metal band. “And I will be there the whole time to control the experience.”

Will nods. He knows this, but it’s gratifying to hear it from Hannibal’s mouth. 

Hannibal kisses him gently, and Will moans against his lips. All of the want is waiting within him like a beast in a cage, snarling and pacing now that it’s scented blood. Will’s teeth are bared when Hannibal pulls back.

Hannibal fetches the blindfold, and Will turns for him. Darkness settles over his vision, and Hannibal ties it securely, pulling a few strands of Will’s hair out of the way. He tilts Will’s head, admiring, and Will holds his hands behind his back. 

Then Hannibal puts on the earphones. 

All of a sudden, his hearing is muffled and cuts out. There’s silence at first, while Will waits in his darkness, Hannibal circling nearby. Then, he hears music. Hannibal has selected a playlist of classical music for him, something new to Will. It swells, and eases, playing delicately and skillfully. 

Will feels Hannibal tap on the back of his hand twice. Will gives a nod.  _ The volume is good. _ He is rewarded with another kiss on his temple. Hannibal takes Will’s arm and guides him slowly through the bedroom. Will knows his way around Hannibal’s house well, but it's entirely disorienting to be lead blind and deaf. It makes him all the more aware of Hannibal’s touch and warmth at his side, and his dependence on him. 

Hannibal’s guidance does not fail him. They make their slow way down the stairs and to the dining room. At the head of the table, Hannibal has Will get to his knees and sit under the table. There’s a pillow provided, so Will knows he’s going to be here for a long time. 

Hannibal gives him a lingering caress, and then his touch is gone. Will feels more than hears his footsteps going to the kitchen. Will sighs, and settles, more comfortable now that he’s given direction and put in his place. 

People start to arrive. He can feel the house change underneath him, and hear the muffled edges of conversation like someone humming under the music. There are portions of silence in the music too, and he can hear a little more then, but no clear words. 

Eventually, footfalls fill the room, the chairs are moved back, and everyone takes their seats. Underneath the head of the table, Will feels like they are all sitting so close around him, these strangers that Hannibal will give him to, who Hannibal has vetted and selected for Will. 

Will’s imagination fills in the blanks: a series of men and women, well dressed, chatting amongst themselves at the dinner table, some handsome and others plain. He can smell them around him, hear the rumbles of their laughter and shifting in their seats. And he feels, with crystal clear clarity, when Hannibal steps in front of him and his seat at the table. The ambient conversation settles, and though the music covers everything, Will knows that Hannibal is giving his ceremonial dinner speech. 

Will shudders, thinking of what he might be saying to them. Talking about Will, the object of their desert. Making a witty remark about saving room for after the meal.

Then Hannibal sits, and above him they start to eat.

Will ate much earlier, so he’ll have the energy for tonight. The meal for their guests will be light, with just a glass of wine each. The overindulgence will come after.

After a few minutes, Will feels Hannibal’s fingers, gentle on his jaw. His thumb brushes over Will’s lips, and his tongue darts out. Hannibal slips his thumb in Will’s wanting mouth, and Will suckles on it automatically. He feels the brush of Hannibal’s knee on his arm, then Hannibal hooks his thumb in Will’s mouth and drags it, open, towards him. 

Will holds his mouth open slack, and feels the head of Hannibal’s cock rub along his lips. Will lets Hannibal use his pretty lips, sitting compliantly, and when Hannibal is ready he pushes into Will’s mouth. Will shifts closer and wraps his lips around Hannibal’s cock, settling into this familiar position. For a moment Hannibal caresses his jaw, fondly, praising, and then his hands return to the meal.

Will doesn’t suck, just holds Hannibal in his mouth. The first time they tried this Will was humiliated, but now that feeling is replaced by a low burning satisfaction. He loves the taste, clean with a bit of salt, the warmth and softness of Hannibal’s flesh, how vulnerable he is between Will’s teeth. Will can’t wait for Hannibal to be hard, to claim his throat.

Will feels his own moan more than he hears it. Hannibal’s hand moves over the back of his neck and squeezes, and Will groans again in response. He hears the vibrations of Hannibal’s voice and then murmuring in response. Will begins to pull back but Hannibal keeps him close, and strokes his jaw to reassure Will. He’s doing well. 

Will sits patiently and listens to the music and warms Hannibal’s cock in his mouth. Meanwhile, everyone around him enjoys their meal. Will loses himself in it, loses track of time.

Eventually, Hannibal takes himself from Will’s mouth. Will tucks him back into his pants and zips up, head in the clouds, so happy when Hannibal pets his jaw. He feels Hannibal stand up and move his chair, and then Will is guided to stand at the head of the table.

Will’s cheeks flush hard as he stands next to Hannibal. Everyone sees him for the first time: blindfolded, collared, lips red. They’re looking at his body, Will knows. Hannibal’s hand strokes down his neck and spine, settling on the curve of his ass. He’s aware of the weight of the plug in him as Hannibal presses at its base, and his toes curl.

Hannibal moves the headphones, just an inch on one ear. “Show then what you’re wearing.”

Then the music is back, muffling him. 

Will shivers and nods. In front of their unseen guests, Will undoes the buttons of his shirt. He slips the silk off his shoulders, revealing the garter belt at his waist. Hannibal takes the shirt from him, and Will slips out of his pants and shoes. Now he’s all lace and stockings and skin on display. 

For them to see.

And soon to touch. To use. 

Will stands up straight, hands behind his back, giving them a good view, his cock slowly filling.

Hannibal steps to his side again and kisses him on the cheek. Takes Will’s arm and guides him from the dining room. Will’s warm all over, and every step moves the plug in him, stoking the arousal in his gut. 

In the entertaining room, Hannibal puts Will on his knees and bends him over a bench—a specially made one, to be bred and spanked. The music stops suddenly as Hannibal removes the headphones. “My lovely Will,” his Master purrs in his ear. “So well behaved for our guests. For me.”

“Yes, Master,” Will breathes, nearly breathless at the praise. 

“I’m going to invite our guests in, and we’ll begin,” Hannibal says. “You know your word and signal.”

“I do, Sir.”

Hannibal tilts his head up, and bends to kiss him. Even with such a chaste kiss, Will feels thoroughly possessed.

 

The guests trail in and make themselves comfortable. Will hears drinks being poured and casual conversation, some comments about him, clad in lace and waiting to be wrecked. He can hear a few women, but all of them are there to top him. Anxious to begin, Will tries not to squirm on the bench.

Hannibal’s hand in his hair settles him. His voice does something else. 

“Who wants to go first?”

Someone steps forward, confident, and there murmurs of appreciation. Will feels heat at his flanks as the first person kneels behind him, his hands broad as they grope the globes of Will’s ass. Rough, calloused, he grips Will hard and spreads him open. Will gasps, feeling his hole stretch around the plug.

“Look’it that sweet ass,” the man growls. A smoker’s voice, rough as his hands, older, and Will imagines grizzled. The type of bear he used to look for to rail him hard. He slips Will’s panties to the side and plays with the plug, pulling it partially out then pushing back in. Will feels it down the back of his legs. Then the plug comes all the way out—

“Oh,” Will groans.

—And fucks back in.

Will gasps and clings to the edge of the bench. “Yeah boy,” the man says, soft and rough. “You like having your ass full?”

Will tenses up, whimpers.

“The man asked you a question, Will.” Hannibal’s voice comes from his right. “Use your words.”

Will gasps and nods, bright red in the face. “Yes, I do.”

The man stuffs Will full with his fingers, stretching his rim more. Will’s already filled with lube, and takes it easily. The man bends over him, weight over his back, and speaks in his ear, stroking his insides. “You want my cock, boy?”

“Yes,” Will says at once. “Please.”

The fingers slip out of him and Will feels empty. The man behind him opens his pants, and Will lets out a breathy moan when he slaps his cock against Will’s ass. There’s the sound of his hand moving slick over it, more lube from somewhere, and then he’s pressing in.

God, yes.  _ This _ .

The man pushes in as deep as he can go, and it burns in the best way, feels thick. He pulls back quickly, thrusts in slow, and hauls Will’s hips up off the bench to get the right angle, muttering “yeah, yeah,” and “sweet ass” over and over. Will’s fully hard now, cock rubbing against the table, the sound of skin on skin, the grip of his hands on his hips, god—

Then someone’s guiding his face, and Will opens his mouth wide for another cock.

Will doesn’t need to see them to feel their pleasure as if it’s his own, washing over his skin and sinking to his bones. The act of taking this cock-hungry slut, fucking into the waiting hole, the suction of his mouth. Will sucks and bobs, swallows when he presses deep, and when it pulls out Will sticks out his tongue to be used. 

He’s good at head. It’s something to focus on while he’s fucked, to keep his head on his shoulders. The man behind him gets rough as he comes to his climax, yanking Will back on his length, filling him with warmth, but Will keeps his lips sealed on the cock before him, like a good slut.

The man behind him gives a fond slap to Will’s ass and moves on. Someone fills his place, stroking Will’s legs and shoving in to his wet hole. Doesn’t feel as thick, but long, and the guy is taking him slow and sweet. Will concentrates on what’s in his mouth, using a hand and sucking hard, and is rewarded with a curse. The man thrusts between his lips, tasting more bitter than Hannibal does.

Hannibal, watching him, just a few feet away. Watching him at his most wanton.

The man in front of him holds Will’s head in both hands and starts thrusting slowly, fucking into his mouth. Will’s gag reflex is a thing of the past and the man plunges into his throat, cursing again and grunting, using his mouth in that familiar way that Will can’t get enough of. He’s so hard, and it feels so good having his face stuffed.

Come floods his throat and then mouth and Will swallows it down, panting. “Ah, fuck,” Will whines. The man behind him has found the right angle to drive him mad and keeps rubbing it on every thrust.

A sharp sting on his back makes Will clench around the cock in him, shooting sparks up his spine.

“Language, Will,” Hannibal says.

“S-sorry Master, ahhh,” Will moans. 

“You’ll behave yourself in front of company.”

“Yes Master.”

His ass aches pleasantly, warm and stimulated. He wants more, he can take more. Will bites his lip as he’s fucked, steadily faster. He can’t help the grunts that spill from his lips on every thrust. He’s leaking and making a mess because the angle is so good, the hot cock grinding on his prostate.

The man yanks him back so he’s sitting reverse on his lap and Will gasps out at how deep he hits, braces his hands on the bench and rides him as hard as he can. The man curses and grabs Will by the hair, getting rougher as he closes in on his release.

“C’mon, give it to me,” Will demands with a growl, working his hips back. 

“Ah, you like that, cockslut?” the man says, the first thing he’s spoken to Will. “Want my cum in your ass?”

“God—please—yes,” Will groans, meeting every thrust, ass sore where it hits his hips. When he comes in Will, the satisfaction is immense, heat reaching through every extremity. Cum drips down his thighs, and then he’s left empty, aching and shaking on hands and knees on the carpet.

The blindfold is slipping and Will puts in back in place, sweat in his hair. His panties must be torn by now, and he can feel a stocking slip; he feels like a mess. Sticky, sweaty, come and lube dripping out of his ass.

The next person who takes him slides in so easily. He’s stretched wide open, and it takes Will a moment to realize that the cock is huge, a silicone toy that takes his breath away. Another cock is guided to his mouth and Will sucks, whimpering as he’s used.

“Pretty mouth on ya, oh yeah, take that cock.”

“Work that ass.”

“God he’s tight.”

Someone’s playing with his nipples too, but no one is touching his cock and Will needs to come, but he can’t get his mouth off to ask Hannibal. He feels the leather of the crop against his throbbing cock, and Hannibal whacks him lightly there a couple times. The pain is like a deeper pressure, making his back curl as he’s fucked from both ends.

“Not yet, Will,” Hannibal says, his voice cutting through the static. Will whimpers and clenches up to hold back. He won’t come. Not until Hannibal says he can.

This isn’t about Will’s pleasure anyway.

But he hopes—he hopes Hannibal is enjoying himself. That he’s pleased. That Will is doing a good job.

They haul him back on the bench and Will cants up his hips, groaning loudly and slobbering on the cock in his mouth. Every thrust of the toy punches a sound out of him, making him shiver. The cock rubs against the roof of his mouth and he sucks, swallows when it slips to the back of his throat. Someone takes his hand and wraps it around their erection. All of the sensation is too much.

A curse is all the warning Will gets before come fills his mouth, cock pulsing against his tongue, and though Will’s never liked the taste he swallows obediently. 

“Please master,” Will gasps out, a pathetic whine as he’s fucked. “I need to come.”

The crop is back, stroking Will’s belly, as Hannibal considers. The toy keeps rubbing against his prostate, and Will can’t keep it at bay for long. He presses his face against the bench, towards where he knows Hannibal is, and begs. “Please Master. Please let me come!”

The person fucking him slows, maybe directed by Hannibal or just playing the game of edging Will until he breaks. Will’s twitching, gasping, eyes rolling.

Then Hannibal’s hand is on his neck, pressing down, and the other wraps around Will’s cock. “Come,” Hannibal growls in his ear, and Will does with a sob, spilling into Hannibal’s palm, twitching and crying out as he’s fucked through it. Hannibal feeds him his own come, and Will licks it obediently. 

It’s not over by a long shot. 

Will’s head is pulled up by the hair and his mouth is pressed to the mound of someone’s pussy. He licks with a groan, tasting how wet she is, nosing and sucking on the clit. His jaw aches by now but he keeps going, alternating long and deep licks, moving between the clit and the folds. He’s stuffed with cock again, so sensitive that he can’t keep from crying out. 

Soon the bench is so slick from sweat that it’s more of a hinderance. He’s fucked roughly on his hands and knees, so brutal that he can’t do anything with his mouth but let people rub against it. His legs shake badly, then give out.

Hannibal hails him up across his lap, and Will sobs in relief. The warmth of his Master’s body is different from these strangers—Will feels safe and cherished. Hannibal strokes a firm hand down his spine and his fingers brush his wet, sore hole. “You’re so open, darling,” Hannibal says. He tugs Will’s rim and he lets out an exhausted gasp. “You better tighten up to show our guests a good time.”

Will burns with humiliation. “Yes, Master,” he says with a trembling breath.

Hannibal spanks him, hard, and Will yelps. This is no warm up or sensation spanking, and it makes Will tense, the tired muscles of his rectum clenching. Hannibal checks him with two fingers. “That’s my good boy,” Hannibal praises. “You ready for more?”

Will nods. He doesn’t think he could hold himself up, but he doesn’t have to: Hannibal is here to guide him.

Hannibal summons the next person with a word. They spread their hands up Will’s back and down his chest, toying with nipples. “What a sweet toy,” the new man says, voice lilting with amusement. He stokes over Will’s hole, so different from how Hannibal touches him. “So wet.”

Will moans and nods his assent, tilting his sore hips back for more. “Hungry for more?” the man asks.

“Yes,” Will groans. “Please fuck me.”

He feels the blunt, spongy head of the man’s cock press against his hole and bypass all resistance. His insides are sore from use, and each thrust in and drag out tears up and down his spine with sensation. “Oh god, god,” Will pants, and clutches Hannibal’s leg for an anchor. 

“God, you feel so good,” the man grunts, picking up the pace. Will trembles all over, thighs hitting Hannibal’s legs at each thrust.

Hannibal tugs at Will’s hair, guiding his head up. “Open up,” Hannibal says, and the gentleness of his voice brings tears to Will’s eyes. He obeys, sucking a half-hard cock into his mouth. Hannibal helps hold up his head as Will slurps. The cock hardens in his mouth, and the man begins to thrust in, taking over. It’s all Will can do to keep his jaw open and his teeth tucked behind his lips. 

Hannibal strokes Will’s throat as he chokes and struggles for breath, gasping and drooling as the man pulls out only to fuck back in. 

Will is completely limp now, and pleasure is turning into painful stimulation. He’s soaked with sweat, spit running down his chin, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. Will claws at Hannibal’s leg with a whimper.

“Hold on darling,” Hannibal says gently, stroking Will’s side. “You’re doing so well.”

Will moans, and spit and precum flow down his lips. The cock in his mouth pulls out and he hears the slick rhythm as the stranger strokes himself. Will whimpers and opens his mouth, jolted forwards as the person behind him gets rough. Streaks of cum land on his face, and Will weakly licks what he can reach.

Hannibal let’s Will’s head drop and runs his fingers through his hair. “Almost there, my sweet boy,” Hannibal says. “Can you be good for just a little longer?”

Will cries out as he’s fucked into, but nods. He hardly recognizes the sounds he’s making, wanton cries and exhausted moans. The hands on his hips dig in, and the man grinds into Will, deep—and he’s so full, so wet, on fire with too much stimulation.

Will doesn’t know if he comes. It’s a strange orgasm, amorphous, painful. The last man comes inside him, and then Hannibal slides the plug back in.

Hannibal always seems to know where Will’s limits are, and just how much he can take. He knows too that Will is notoriously bad at calling a safe word, always trying to push himself more and getting confused in the desires of others. So Will is incredibly grateful that Hannibal ends the gangbang then, thanking everyone and settling Will on his stomach on the couch, with a soft blanket wrapped around him. Will’s floating, barely aware as Hannibal tells him, “Wait here, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” and escorts their guests out of the room.

Will might have dozed off, because the next thing he knows the house is quiet and Hannibal is sitting next to him on the couch. He pets Will’s hair and guides his head onto his lap, then slides the blindfold off. Will keeps his eyes closed, and the blanket bunched up by his face.

“How are you feeling?” Hannibal asks.

Will clears his throat. “Tired. Good.”

“You were so beautiful.”

Will nuzzles his thigh. “Thank you, Master.”

“Thank you, Will.”

Hannibal pulls the blanket away and presses Will down, laying on his back. Will shivers and arches weakly beneath him; Hannibal is wearing softer clothes now, and it’s not too much stimulation when he starts grinding against Will’s bare ass.

“Please,” Will moans, gripping Hannibal’s hip.

“Didn’t get enough?” Hannibal teases, nipping at Will’s ear.

“I want you,” Will gasps.

Hannibal growls, and pulls Will’s hair so he has access to the long line of his neck. He sucks the delicate skin with a growl, filling out against Will. He feels possessed, owned completely. In his state, he couldn’t move Hannibal off if he tried, and Hannibal makes sure Will feels pinned and helpless.

Hannibal rears up, pinning Will down with a hand on the back of his neck. “You look so sore here, darling,” Hannibal says roughly, teasing Will’s rim around the plug. “Used, red and wet.”

Will moans as Hannibal pulls out the plug, slow but steady. He can feel how open he is, filled with come and lube, a sloppy, slutty hole. He opens his eyes and looks over his shoulder, Hannibal a dark blur in his periffery, stroking himself hard.

“Please take me,” Will says. “Make me only feel you.”

Hannibal growls and presses the head of his cock to Will’s hole. He slams in all the way and Will chokes, pants welty against the couch. “Oh god, oh!”

Hannibal plants both hands on Will’s shoulders and fucks him hard, almost careless, like Will is just a tool for his pleasure, like a wild animal. But Will still feels so adored, that his monster reveals himself, only to him. The slap of Hannibal’s hips against his sore skin is loud, and Will sobs at the brutality of it, how completely he is owned.

“Master—I’ll come. Hannibal, Hannibal!”

“Not yet,” Hannibal growls.

He pulls all the way out and slams back in, then flattens himself to Will’s back and rolls his hips, thrusting slick and fast. It’s all Will can do to keep himself from coming as Hannibal’s cock strokes across his prostate, but he needs to be good, needs to be perfect for his Master.

“Come for me,” Hannibal says, and bites Will’s shoulder hard.

That’s all Will needs, and he cries out, ass clenching as his orgasm hits. Hannibal bites harder, fucks deeper, then stills as he comes in Will, so hot, twitching against his sore walls.

“Oh god, oh god, hah—” Will shakes to pieces, spilling against the blanket.

Hannibal releases his teeth from Will’s skin and licks and kisses over the mark. God, Will feels wrecked in the best way, blissful and not thinking of anything. Hannibal whispers praise against Will’s skin, soothing his hips with his hands. They stay like that for a while, until Hannibal softens so much that he slips out. Will whines at the loss, and Hannibal chuckles.

They curl up on the couch and doze, ignoring the mess for now.


End file.
